The door swung open before I could even knock. My hand that was in the air lowered, and his eyes looked my body up and down. He bent down, looking at the blood that covered my knees. His jaw tensed, but it relaxed once he looked back up at me and met my eyes.
He put his hand on the back of my knee as he looked at it further. Worry flashed across his face, and he looked at it as if he was trying to determine how bad it was.
His hand slid up my leg as he stood back up to his full height, "Come inside."
He grabbed onto my hand to pull me inside, but I winced since my palms were scraped. He noticed this and dropped my hand, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand towards his face. He whispered while looking at it, "Fuck."
He put his hand on my lower back, guiding me through his house. I looked around, observing my surroundings.
Grey walls, black flooring, completely clean with a hint of a mint smell in the air. He kept his house cold, something that didn't surprise me.
We entered a bathroom, and he flipped the light switch on. He ordered, "Take a seat on the counter."
I jumped up and watched while he searched through a drawer. As he started to pull some stuff out, he asked me with an even voice, "What happened?"
"I kicked somebody's ass," I summarized.
His eyes narrowed. I let out a sigh and told him, "This guy just started...grabbing me. I elbowed him in the nose and kneed him in the gut, but I scraped my skin against the road."
"I'll find out who the fuck that was," he muttered under his breath.
My eyebrows lowered. How would he find out?
"Where do you hurt?" he asked me, walking over and standing between my legs.
"Just my knees and palms," I told him, but his eyes scanned over me anyway, trying to see if there were anything else.
He pressed a wet rag against the red areas gently, and told me, "Tell me if I hurt you."
His movements were gentle, and he looked laser-focused. He gently put a band-aid on each of my palms, before grabbing two to put on my knees.
"Self-defense teacher, tattoo artist, and a doctor?" I teased him, and a small smirk formed on his face.
"I'm good at looking for injuries when I fight people so that I can use them to my advantage," he told me. "Now, I'm looking for them in a different way. To help you. Maybe your ass was onto something with Venus being in retrograde."
"I said Mercury," I correct.
"Same shit."
I laughed slightly. I watched his smile as he covered my knees.
He looks different when he smiles. It's the only time when happiness reaches his eyes. His green eyes have a warmth to them, and lines form on his cheeks. The wall he has in front of him disappears, even if it's just for a second.
"Let me help you down," he spoke out loud.
He put his hands on my waist and helped me down, and I now stood on the bathroom floor. He looked me up and down, "Do you want a sweater to borrow?"
"Please."
He turned, and I followed him through his house. I looked around, and I realized that there was nothing girly. Which only made me more curious as to who the flowers he buys are for.
My eyes widened slightly as we enter his bedroom. It was dark. Black curtains, a black bedroom set, and he didn't use the light switch. Instead, he put a lamp on, clearly not liking bright lights.
I watched him as he dug through his closet before walking back over to me.
He pulled the sweater over my head, careful to not touch my palms as he guided my hands through the sleeves. It went down to my mid-thigh, hiding the dress underneath me completely. I turned to look at the clock, feeling relieved that it wasn't 1 am yet.
"I should've gone with you," he whispered nearly to himself.
My eyebrows tugged together, "Why? It's okay if you don't like me, Nico."
"Maribelle, you don't understand what the fuck you're talking about," he called me by my full name while he ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated motion.
"Then why don't you tell me?" I almost spat, my frustration starting to build.
I don't like not understanding how he feels. I don't like not knowing if he wants to be around me or not. If he likes me as a friend, then just say that. And if he doesn't, even though I'll probably cry, just say it.
He shook his head slightly, and what I think is anger covered his face. He rubbed his jawline as he avoided my eyes.
He ignored my words and walk past me. I watched his back as he exited the room, and I lifted the fabric of the sweater to my nose to smell it while I tried to calm down.
After a few minutes of not coming back, I went downstairs to find him.
I entered his living room, my head tilting slightly as I watched his body language. He was tense, his fists clenching as he crossed his arms.
"You're mad," I observed.
"Yes, I'm fucking mad, Elle!" he almost yelled.
He looked around the room as if he were trying to calm down. His face turned back to mine and he stormed up to me, his eyes never leaving mine.
He stopped directly in front of me, less than an inch between us. He stared down at me, "I'm fucking mad because you got hurt, Elle. Because I want to protect you, and I didn't. I'm mad because I got fucking butterflies hearing your voice on the phone as if I'm in fucking middle school."
When my eyes started to move away from him slightly, he grabbed onto my face and forced me to look at him again. His voice was quiet this time as his thumb brushed my bottom lip, "But the thing that I'm most mad about, is the fact that I want to kiss you so fucking badly."
My heart jumped in my chest. Did a triple frontflip.
"Then kiss me, Nico," I stood up on my tiptoes to make my lips closer to his.
He looked like he was fighting an internal battle with himself. I watched all of the emotions that flooded into his green eyes like Niagara Falls.
He whispered, "There are things you don't know about me, Elle."
"I know," I nodded. His eyes darted around my face.
He gave himself one second to take in my words. One second to think about them, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine.
My arms wrapped around his neck as his lips against mine made my legs feel weak. He tasted like mint gum, telling me that he had been chewing it earlier. His hands stayed on my waist as he pulled me as close to him as he could, and my hand grabbed a handful of his hair.
When he pulled away, his eyes stayed on mine. His hands went to my face, cupping it while his thumbs brushed up and down my cheeks.
"Do I have permission to ask you something personal?" I asked while staring into his eyes.
He shook his head no, and I bit my bottom lip to try and hide my disappointment. I guess it seeped onto my face, because he nearly whispered, "Fuck. Okay, one thing."
"Do you do this often?" I asked, wanting to know if this was something special, or if it was something he did all the time. "Do you kiss your friends often?"
"Never."
It was just one word, but it was enough to make my heart do a jump. The corners of my mouth turned up slightly, and he moved one of his hands from my cheek to run through my hair.
He asked me, "Do I seem like I'd do that all the time?"
There was a hint of emotion in his voice. Amusement. I took a dramatic deep breath and tapped my chin while I pretended to think. I nodded my head, "Yes, whore."
"I look like a whore?" he gestured to himself.
"Hm....maybe not."
"That's what I thought-"
"You look like a slut."
He laughed slightly, a noise that made my heart lift in my chest.
I thought that he was going to call me a bitch or something in response, but to my surprise, he didn't.
He took a small step forward, closing the tiny gap between us. I stared up at him, waiting for him to do whatever it is that he was going to do. RKO me? I kept my body tense, ready for him to try me. I'd kick his ass in a fight.
But then,
He did something I expected even less.
His head leaned into my neck as he pulled me toward him, embracing me in a hug. He put his arms around me, putting one on my upper back, and one on my lower. He held me close to him tightly, and even though it was just a hug, it felt like much more.
Something about the way that he held me made me feel like he needed this just as much as I did.
"I'm sorry I'm so mean to you," he whispered against my skin. "You don't deserve that. I thought it would make me want nothing to do with you, but it's done the fucking opposite."
He pulled away from me but kept his hands on my waist. He muttered a curse word to himself as he moved his hand through my hair, grabbing a fistful of it before releasing it.
"I'll drive you home now," he tried to force his eyes off of mine, but they returned a second later. "Do you feel okay?"
I nodded, "I'll live."
I found myself once again wondering about the scar on his chest. It was huge, and I couldn't even imagine what it was from. But it was from something far worse than getting pushed on a road.
He put his hand on my lower back as he guided me out of his house. He swung the door open and started walking down the front steps of his porch, and I followed close behind him. But he stopped as soon as he finished walking down them.
He turned around and looked at me over his shoulder. He asked as if he had only noticed now, "Why aren't you wearing shoes?"
"You wear heels for hours, Mr. Size 12, and you'll have your answer."
He rolled his eyes. He turned around and lifted me up, making my eyes widen under the night sky. He carried me as if my weight was nothing to him, and I found myself wanting to lean my head into the warmth of his chest, but I didn't.
He opened the passengers' side door and set me down in it. He closed my door for me before walking around to the drivers' seat and getting in.
His engine turned to life as he turned his keys, and his headlights hit the garage in front of us. He reversed, driving along the night road.
He kept the radio off while he drove. He took a quick look at me, and I thought he wasn't going to say anything, but then he spoke up.
"You don't have to pay for your sessions with me."
"Really?"
He nodded, "I wanna help you be able to protect yourself. Don't need money to make me want to do it."
My mouth formed a relieved smile. I love my grandparents, but they basically pay me minimum wage.
"Because you fight people?" I tried to sneak in a question about his life, but the look that he gave me made me put my hands up and realize that I wasn't as sneaky as I thought.
The night was quiet. We didn't pass a single car as he drove me home.
He pulled into my driveway, and by the lamp on in the living room, I knew Romeo was waiting inside for me. I rolled my eyes slightly, but then my eyes caught something.
On his car keys, I noticed he had an 'A' hanging off of it. I felt my heart hurt a little in my chest.
Whose name starts with an A?
"I'll see you tomorrow for training?" he asked me, but I couldn't stop my eyes from looking at it.
Him speaking again made my eyes snap away from it, "Elle?"
"Um, I'm actually busy with work tomorrow. I'll text you a day where I'm free," I said quietly, and he looked surprised at my words.
Without giving him another chance to say something, I got out quickly, "Goodnight, Nico."
I shut the car door and headed to my front door at a fast walking pace.
The second I opened the front door, Romeo sat up on the couch. He kept his butt on it as he asked, "How was it? Everything okay?"
I nodded my head, trying to seem casual, "It was good, but it made me tired. I'm just gonna head upstairs and sleep now."
He yawned and nodded before laying back down on the couch. I made my way up the stairs, but the sound of Rio laughing in his room made me smile.
I headed towards his room quietly, not wanting to wake up my parents.
I turned the doorknob slightly, expecting him to be shit-talking his friend on a videogame. But my heart dropped seeing the whites of his eyes red and smelling the lingering scent of weed. His delayed reaction time didn't even take in the fact that I was here until I shut the door behind me.
He smiled, "Hey, Elle. 'Sup?"
"Are you high?" I asked him, even though I already knew the answer.
"On weed. Come on, I want to have some fun sometimes," he shrugged.
I shook my head, "But you said you weren't going to do anything. If you get high, you might not be thinking rationally and go back to doing h-"
"Elle," he cut me off. "I'm not going back to that shit. I just wanna smoke weed sometimes, okay?"
I hesitantly bit my cheek. I wasn't trying to be controlling; I was just looking out for him. I didn't want him to slip into old habits.
"I don't know, Rio....."
"Here. You can search my room at any time, okay?" his eyebrows raised as he spoke. "And I promise you'll never find anything bad."
My parents wouldn't let him smoke weed, and neither would Romeo.
I clarified, "So, I can search your room at any given moment?"
He nodded, but paused quickly, "Except at around 10 pm every night after my shower."
I made a face of disgust, "Ew, okay, got it."
He laughed slightly and I held the middle finger up to him before shutting his door. I made my way into my room and pulled my dress off underneath me, but kept the sweater on.
I got into bed, breathing in the smell of his cologne that radiated from the sweater.
I kissed Nico, I let him hold my heart for a slight moment during it,
And there is clearly somebody else in his life.
Maybe I'm not as special as I thought.
Word count: 2539